Take a Mountain Man Home for Christmas: A Mountain Man Romance Christmas Collection

by Crowne, K. C.

  I thanked her and headed outside to my rented SUV. I put my camera bag and trekking pole into the passenger side and crossed the street to grab a coffee myself and chit-chat with the locals.

  “Hello, there,” I greeted a group of hunters who were sharing a table over breakfast in the small diner after walking in. “My name is Lindsay Gemmer. I’m a wildlife photographer. I was wondering if I could bother you for a moment?”

  “Sure, young lady. Have a seat if you’d like,” one of the men offered.

  “Thank you, sir.” I took a seat and ordered a coffee from the waitress.

  “How can we help you?” asked a second hunter. He was an older gentleman with a long white beard wearing a bright orange cap.

  “I was wondering if any of you gentlemen have come across a Ptarmigan nest while hunting and can tell me where to find it? I want to photograph one in its natural habitat,” I explained to them.

  The hunters conversed amongst themselves for a moment, trying to remember where they might have noticed a nest. The man with the long white beard did his best to explain to me the way to get to a nest they’d seen a while back.

  “Hope it’s still there,” he said.

  Basically, it sounded like I’d have to leave the main road and take a couple of off-road trails, and then do some hiking. Confused, I asked, “Do you think you can draw me a map? Or give me landmarks of where I might turn onto the trails?”

  “Sure,” he agreed and grabbed a napkin after asking the waitress for a pen. A few moments later, I had a make-shift map with a few landmarks circled.

  I finished my coffee and thanked the hunters. I asked for a refill in a to-go cup and paid for my coffee with the twenty-dollar bill in my pocket, shoving the change back inside. I stepped outside into the sunshine and looked up at the sky. What a beautiful day. Cold but sunny.

  I’d spent an hour in the diner conversing with the men and wanted to get a move on. It got dark around 4:30 in the winter here, and the last thing I wanted was to race the darkness back down the mountainside.

  I climbed into my SUV and headed out of town to connect with the road that traveled up to my mountain ridge destination. Studying the napkin map, I looked for the first landmark that indicated a turn off from the main road onto an off-road dirt trail.

  I was starting to think I’d driven too far up the mountain when I saw the road sign that marked the first trail. I turned onto the dirt trail and watched my mileage to the next landmark and turn off. The man told me it should be about two miles down this road, and as predicted, there was a huge, single boulder at the fork of the two trails. I was to go to the right there.

  I turned and followed the new trail for about a half-mile. The hunter said I would notice the dirt trail widen significantly, and that’s where I should pull off and park. I would find a walking path through the high grasses the hunters used, heading down the embankment into the forest.

  I pulled the SUV over to the side of the road and got out to take a look. Just like the hunter promised, there was a narrow, rocky path leading down the embankment through the grasses into the woods. I just had to find the location of the nest.

  I put on my gloves and knit cap, pulling my coat’s hood over it. I grabbed my camera, the lenses, and pulled the camera strap over my head. Then I looked for my cell phone.

  Shit! I’d forgotten my phone in the room at the lodge! Not only did I forget my phone, but I had also forgotten my entire purse with my ID and wallet. Crap!

  As an experienced outdoorswoman, I knew better than to go hiking alone in the wilderness without any connection to the outside world. I looked up at the sun and saw that it had passed the high noon point. If I went back now, I might as well just call it a day. I needed time to hike and find the nest, then observe and photograph it. There was no way I’d be able to make it down the mountain and back up in time to do all of that.

  Against my better judgment, I decided to go ahead without my phone. I retrieved my trekking pole, extended it, and started down the hillside into the tree line. I picked up on the trail the hunters had told me about and followed it for about a mile before I reached a rocky precipice. The hunters told me if I followed above it, I’d see naturally made switchbacks leading down that I should be able to navigate.

  After a short hike, I saw what the hunters were referring to and began the descent on the first switchback. As I was coming around the turn of the last switchback, I thought I heard voices. Who would be out here? I froze in my tracks to get a better listen.

  I heard two male voices talking. Hunters? Had to be. The hunters I’d conversed with at the diner hadn’t mentioned any houses in the area. And it made sense that it would be a popular area for hunting. I’d already come across deer and what appeared to be moose tracks while hiking to this point.

  The men weren't in sight, so I positioned myself behind the trunk of a thick pine tree to see if I could get a better look. I waited for a moment and listened. They seemed to be arguing, which made me a bit nervous. I stole a peek around the tree trunk and caught sight of them about thirty yards away from me. A little too close for comfort.

  From my distance, I could barely make out their features. One man was much burlier than the other, who was tall and lanky. The tall man was holding something. Is that a shovel? Why would they have a shovel out here? The tall man leaned in with the shovel and then straightened, digging what looked like a deep hole. I could see the metal of the shovel reflect in the sunlight, shining through the trees as he swung it around to offload some dirt.

  Listening, I heard the big man yell something about the hole being deep enough. He seemed to be agitated with the other man. The tall, lanky man yelled that it had to be deeper so that the body would stay buried.

  A chill ran through my body as fear gripped me. I tucked myself back behind the tree so I could think. My first reaction was to run back up the switchbacks the way I’d come. The men obviously hadn’t noticed me hiking down the mountainside, so if I was quiet enough, they shouldn’t notice me climbing back up.

  But what if I was witnessing a crime? The aftermath of a murder? They didn’t know I was there. I could snap a photo or two of their faces and take the pictures to the local authorities and tell them what I’d heard. It was my duty to do so.

  Quietly, I lifted my camera to my eye and peered around the tree once again. I zoomed in on the men and focused the lens. Snap. Snap. The noise seemed so loud, but the men were concentrating on their task and didn’t notice me. I watched through my lens as the skinny man shoved the tip of the shovel into the ground with one final thrust and nodded in satisfaction. Then, both men bent and picked up what appeared to be a rolled-up carpet.

  Snap. Snap.

  Fighting my fear, I made sure to get one more closeup of both men’s faces, of their raggedy features. The burly man had a long, disheveled, brown beard with a matching head of unkempt hair. The tall, skinny man had a lean, sallow face with a long, red scar planted on one cheek. He was wearing a black ski cap with sandy blond hair whisking out from the sides. I snapped a picture of him when he hefted his side of the rug into the grave, and as he smirked, I captured his toothless grin.

  When I snapped the skinny man’s picture, through the lens I saw his eyes turn in my direction. His mouth made an O shape as his eyes squinted and focused on me. Oh, shit.

  “Hey!” the skinny man screeched at me. “Hey, you!” He pointed in my direction as he grabbed his companion’s flannel coat and whirled him around.

  “What?” the burly man asked.

  Pointing towards me with a bony finger, the lanky man yelled, “Look, you idiot! She saw us!”

  The burly man’s eyes narrowed and found me. He scowled and bellowed, “Stop!” He took two enormous steps in my direction.

  I let my camera fall on its strap and turned on my heels to attack the switchbacks leading back up the steep, rocky hillside. I heard the men’s footsteps crunching in the snow behind me.

  My heart was beating out of my chest, and
my breath came in shallow gasps, but I kept on pulling myself up the precipice. I used my trekking pole to keep my balance and grabbed at thin saplings with my free hand to help pull me up. Whirling around the bend of the last switchback, I glanced down at the men. They were gaining on me fast!

  I raced up the last switchback and followed the precipice to the path that led me there. When I reached the path, I turned to look again before disappearing into the trees. The big man was just reaching the top of the hillside. His face was bright red, his breath quick icy puffs.

  Our eyes met. He glared at me and reached under his flannel coat, into his waistline. “Stop!” he yelled again as a shiny black object emerged from his pants.

  He has a gun! The air shattered.

  CRACK.

  A bullet whizzed over my head.

  “Next time I won’t miss! Stop!” the man roared at me.

  I wasn’t about to let there be a next time or let these men catch me. The big man pointed his pistol in my direction as he continued pursuing me. The skinny man, who’d bent over to try and catch his breath, straightened and pursued his partner. I took off into the trees.

  Crack.

  The gun went off again. The thunder from the gunshot echoed through the mountaintop silence. Startled birds abruptly flew from their hiding spots in the mountain willow behind me, and for a second, I thought the men had caught up with me. Seeing the birds, I sighed a breath of relief and kept on running up the path without stopping to look back.

  After what seemed like an eternity, I made it to the tree line leading to the embankment where my SUV was parked on the shoulder. Gasping for air, I forced myself to keep on going despite the stitch in my side. I pulled myself up the embankment, falling twice, as I half crawled, half ran up the rocky hillside to the SUV. I fumbled with the keys, which were looped to my pants belt loop, and they fell from my frozen fingers into the snow at my feet.

  Shit! I began to cry.

  Hot tears were falling down my frozen cheeks. I reached into the hole where the keys had burrowed themselves, and to my relief, quickly retrieved them. I hit the unlock button on the fob, heaved open the door, and pulled myself up into the driver’s seat, throwing my pole and camera inside.

  As the engine roared to life, I threw the SUV into reverse and positioned it to face the dirt road, which was slightly snow-covered now. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two men emerge from the tree line and begin the climb up the embankment. The burly man was waving his pistol at me. I saw his lips form the word, “Stop!” I threw the gears into drive and peeled out onto the road.

  Ding!

  A bullet hit the side of the SUV. I cried out in fear and pushed down on the gas pedal even harder. Hysterically, I flew down the snow-covered dirt trail, not knowing where I was going, focusing only on my need to get the hell out of there. I was heading in the opposite direction than I had originally come, but I wasn’t going to turn around and head in their direction. I took several deep breaths to try and calm myself down.

  I knew the men could easily follow the tracks of the SUV to find me. And they probably knew the area a lot better than I did. Hell, I didn’t have a clue where this road led. It could lead to a dead-end for all I knew, and the men would quickly find me.

  With these thoughts running through my head, I began to hyperventilate. I pushed down on the gas pedal, urging the SUV to go faster. I just wanted to get as far away as I could as quickly as I could.

  By the time I saw the sharp curve in the road looming in front of me, it was too late. I turned the wheel too hard, trying to compensate, and the wheels started to slide to the right.

  I’m not gonna make it...

  The SUV whisked around the sharp bend, lost its grip on the icy trail, and barreled sideways down the steep embankment. Before I knew what had happened, the SUV was in a fast tailspin.

  I felt sick.

  My stomach lurched.

  I looked up just as the SUV pitched toward a tree head-on.

  With a crash, I heard the windshield shatter and closed my eyes tightly as tiny shards of glass flew around my face. It all happened in slow motion. The last thing I saw was a close up of the steering wheel as my forehead slammed into it.

  Lindsay

  I opened my eyes and saw black. A stab of pain perforated through my skull, and I immediately closed my eyes again, cringing. After a moment, the sharp pain subsided, leaving a consistent throbbing in my temples. I moved my hand up to my forehead and felt warm wetness. Blood.

  What? I racked my brain to understand what was going on. I was in a sitting position, slumped over. I slowly moved my head up and opened my eyes again.

  At first, I saw the blackness again. Am I blind? No, there’s light. I fought the darkness, and my vision slowly returned. I tried to focus. A steering wheel. I’m in a car.

  I sat up gingerly and leaned back against the seat. The SUV I was in was smashed up against a tree. The front windshield was shattered, and shards of glass were all over my lap and in my hair.

  I started to panic. I frantically wiped the glass from my lap and shook out my hair, but my head throbbed. I remembered the blood on my forehead. I grabbed the rearview mirror and moved it so I could see myself. A laceration traveled from my hairline down to my eyebrow. It might need stitches, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Swollen yellow and blue marks surrounded the laceration. The wound was tender under my fingertips. My head throbbed, but at least I was alive.

  I took deep breaths to calm my breathing. I looked around and tried to see where I was. I couldn’t remember anything. Obviously, I’d been in a car accident. But I had no idea what had happened or why I was there.

  The SUV didn’t look familiar to me. My surroundings weren’t familiar, either. I tried to stretch my head around my seat to see if anyone was nearby. Maybe another car? How had this accident happened? I was down an embankment and a road was above me. I must have run off the road. No other car was in sight.

  I needed to call for help. I looked over to the passenger seat, but it was empty. I reached for the glove compartment, but it too was empty. Where’s my stuff? My mind was blank. What stuff?

  Not only didn’t I know where I was, but I also didn’t know who I was!

  I wracked my brain but came up empty. I couldn’t remember my name, where I was from, or anything about my life. Again, I glanced around the car, but there was nothing to help me understand.

  I pulled on the door handle and tried to open the door, but it was jammed. I pushed with all my might but couldn’t open the door. I would have to kick it open. I tried to move my body, and an intense pain washed over me.

  I screamed. My body was tense and sore all over. I moved slowly and pushed my butt over to the side so I could force my legs up to kick the door. Finally, after several attempts, the door pushed open with a squeal.

  I lowered my feet to the ground. Instantly, my boots sank into the mushy snow. I looked myself over and was thankful I was dressed for the weather. I didn’t seem to have sustained any other injuries except for my head wound and being extremely sore.

  I took a good look around my surroundings. I had no idea where I was. All I could see for miles was snow-covered mountain ridges and tall pine trees. I must be in the mountains, I thought, feeling dumb for thinking the obvious. Why I was there was a mystery, though.

  Again, I felt a wave of anxiety take over my body. I lowered my head to my knees and controlled my breathing until the panic attack eased. I had to stay focused. Panicking wasn’t going to get me out of this situation.

  I looked at the SUV. The plate! Maybe the plate could tell me where I was. I went around back and saw that it was a Colorado rental plate. Colorado? What the heck. I couldn’t remember anything, but something told me that I wasn’t from here.

  All alone, stranded in the Colorado mountains, and no idea who I was. Great.

  I went back to the opened door to investigate inside the vehicle. All I could see were the keys in the ignition and an old coffee cup,
reminding me how thirsty I was. I grabbed the cup and opened the lid. It was about a fourth of the way full of coffee. It didn’t smell too old.

  I drank the liquid, savoring the sweetness. Then I grabbed the keys from the ignition. Attached to the keychain was a multitool, a lighter, and a small push button flashlight. At least that was something.

  Looking in the passenger side, I noticed a stick. I reached in and struggled to reach it. Finally, my fingers touched it, and with another small jump, I was able to grab it. A trekking pole. I must have been out here hiking.

  Hiking with no phone? No water? Who would do that? Me, I guessed. How stupid.

  I didn’t see anything else in the front seat or the back seats to give me a clue as to who I was or what I’d been doing out there. I attached the keychain to my pant loop and extended the trekking pole. I tossed the paper cup into the SUV, then thought better of it. I would need to melt snow to drink water soon. The cup would be handy.

  I picked it back up and carefully folded it in half and pushed it into my coat pocket along with the plastic lid. My pockets. I forgot to check my pants pockets. I reached down into my pants pocket and pulled out some money. Eighteen dollars. That was it. The other pocket was empty. No wallet or ID.

  For a moment, I focused on remembering my name. Thinking made my head throb harder, so I gave up. I figured that the bump on my head was the cause of my memory loss and told myself that everything would come back to me soon.

  I looked around again to decide on a course of action. I should try and get back down the mountain to find help. But, how far up was I? I looked at the sky. The sun would be going down soon. I probably wouldn’t have time to hike back down the mountainside.

  I couldn’t stay where I was, though. I needed to find help or, at least, some kind of shelter. Hesitantly, I began my climb up to the road. When I reached the top of the shoulder, I could see my tracks coming from one direction then suddenly veer off to the side, eventually going off the road. Obviously, I hadn’t been able to make the sharp curve of the road.